


The Raven and the Detective…

by IndigoBloom



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Demons, F/M, Fallen Angels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-09-30 20:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17230628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoBloom/pseuds/IndigoBloom
Summary: When she fell, she didn't think she would survive. But, a man usually closed off to most emotions finds her, and gives her a second chance…





	1. On Earth…

I am ashamed. I had let my emotions get the better of me. I had discovered a terrifying new power, one that I have yet to try to understand. I am now falling, banished from heaven, to earth. After about fifteen minutes of falling, I black out. When I wake, what I'm looking at slowly comes into focus. It's the ceiling of a flat, and I can see the upper portions of walls.  Whoever lives here, I think, must love mysteries. I then notice that I'm tied down to the bed I'm on, and a slight pain is building up on my stomach. I look and see that someone is was doing some type of surgery on me. What happened to me?

Suddenly, a man in a surgeon's mask rushes up to me. He has short, dirty-blond hair, and really interesting eyes. The iris of his eyes are mostly blue and grey, and the ring around the pupils are brown with specks of gold. I try to get up, but he holds me down. He is surprisingly strong. "If you want to live," he says, "stop moving,"

I then hold still. I feel a pinprick on my arm and slowly black out again, but I could tell that he went back to work on whatever surgery he was doing on me. Then I realized he was removing bits of shrapnel from my stomach. When I wake again, there is a man sitting next to the bed on a folding chair. 

This isn't the same man from earlier, the one with the surgeon's mask. This man has brown hair and blue/green eyes that seem to change as he moves. Maybe it's just the light when that happens, but it's mesmerizing. A few minutes later I realize I'm staring. "Hello," he says, "my name is Sherlock Holmes. What's yours?"

"I don't have one," I say.

He just looks at me, questioningly, like I'm the hardest math problem in the world and he's trying to figure me out in his head. "Well," he finally says, "we'll just have to worry about that later. First of all," he stands up, "let's see if you can still walk,". He helps me out of bed, and I notice that my left wing is abnormally heavy. I look over at it and see a cast halfway up my wing.

"Now," Sherlock says, "take a step toward me,"

I had hardly noticed I was standing on my own. I take one step, and two things happen simultaneously. First, a sharp pain shoots through my abdomen. Then, both my knee and ankle buckle. I fall into Sherlock's arms. "Ow," I say, "What happened to me?"

He just opens a door and leads me to a couch. "All your questions will be answered soon," he says.

I then hear the front door downstairs open and close.

"John!" Sherlock shouts down the stairs, "she's awake!"

\------------

Meanwhile, downstairs

(John's P.O.V.)

I've just came in through the front door and I'm about to say "Good morning" to Mrs. Hudson, when I hear Sherlock yell, "John! She's awake!"

I can't help but feel proud of myself. I saved an angel's life. I race up the stairs to the flat. When I get to the door, I hear laughing. The woman is telling a story. "Hello," I say as I enter. She smiles and nods at me. I go over and shake her hand. "I'm Dr. John Watson," I say with a smile.

"I don't have a name," she says, "but you could help us think of one for me,"

"How about 'Raven'," I say.

"Hmm," Sherlock says, "very Poe,"

"I think it's perfect," Raven says.

"Why 'Raven'?" Sherlock asks me.

"Because of her wings," I answer, "Anyway, I heard Raven talking about a special power she has,". As I say this, Raven starts to look very uncomfortable. 

"I can..." she starts, "see another person's worst fear and...and I can make them see it, like it's really happening to them,"

"Really? Could you show us?" Sherlock asks. 

To be honest, I kind of don't want to see this.

"Well...if you want me to," she says, "I'm warning you, though, this can look very real and I don't know how you'll react. Different people react different ways,"

"Show me first," he says.

Is it just me, or does it seem like Sherlock is ignoring me, or that I have opinions? Might just be me…

"Ok," Raven says.

Sherlock pulls up a stool to sit across from her, and Raven stares into his eyes, both of them going into a trance-like state.

\----------

(Sherlock's P.O.V.)

The feeling of her poking around in my head was...well, tingly. But, before I knew what was happening, I see Moriarty standing between me and John . He was very disheveled and had a more-manic-than-usual-look in his eyes.

"How are you here," I say, "you're dead. I saw you die,"

"As long as you still fear me," he says, "I'll never die. Well, in your head, at least,"

"But...I...I'm not afraid of you,"

"We both know that's a lie. Well, might as well get this done with,". He then turns toward John. I then see that he was holding a gun, and he pull the trigger.

"John!!!" I yell, and I snap out of the illusion. I flinch so hard that I fall off of my chair and hit my head off of a table.

"Woah! What happened?" John asks.

"Oh, Sherlock I'm so sorry!" Raven says, "Sorry if that jolted you,"

"What was his fear?" Jon says, "No, wait, let me guess. It was me leaving him and never coming back,"

"No," Raven says, "but it did have to do with you,"

"What was it?"

Through this entire conversation, my ears are ringing. I'm only slightly aware of what they are saying.

"Huh?" I say, slightly drowsy.

"Do you want me to tell him?" Raven asks.

"Yeah, sure," I stand up, and put the stool back where it was.

"His greatest fear is losing you. As in, you dying. So, I showed him you being killed by your worst enemy," she says, talking to John.

"You don't mean..."

"Moriarty," I say, still rubbing my head.

"Would you like for me to show you?" Raven asks John.

He looks a little scared, but just for a second. He then looks at me with a face that says, "Should I?" I nod.

"Ok," he says, "But I'll sit on the couch,"

"Alright," Raven says.

John sits on the couch next to Raven, and she stares into his eyes, both of them going into something like a trance.

I'm actually slightly concerned for John. The vision she gives you seems...real.

\----------

(John's POV)

I...don't know what to say about when she first reads my mind. It was...weird. But, before I know what's happening, I'm in the middle of a battlefield.

Missiles are falling around me. I mean, us. I'm carrying a wounded soldier. We walk into a field, where the enemy is not shooting. Then, I hear a click under my foot. I look down and my right foot is on something round and metal. Oh, god, I've stepped on a land-mine. 

I slowly bend down and gently I lay the soldier I'm carrying on the ground. I then look at the soldier's face, and see that he vaguely looks like Sherlock. 

Actually, he looks exactly like Sherlock, except he's dirty and his arm...oh, God...his arm is missing and bloody. 

Then, without a warning, a piece of shrapnel from the area where the missiles are falling hits me in the head, and because it's going so fast, it knocks me off balance, and I fall, setting off the land-mine, setting off an explosion that kills both me and Sherlock. I then snap out of the vision.

I fall backward, and I'm breathing heavy. I sit up, slowly, shaking. 

Sherlock knows that it was bad, and about him. He can tell, because I'm staring at him like he has just crawled out of his grave. The same look I gave him when I found out that he wasn't dead.

"What was it?" he asks.

"I was back on a battlefield..." and I tell him the entire story of what she showed me.

"Sherlock?" Raven asks.

"Yes?"

"You said you would answer my questions,"

"Oh. I can do that now, if you want,"

"Yes, please,"

Sherlock stands up and starts telling her how we found her.


	2. Answers

(Raven's POV)

"We were walking home after having lunch," Sherlock starts to explain, "when we see a group of people looking up in the sky and pointing. We go over to where they are, and we look up. We see this…figure falling toward the Thames. It lands on the street, just missing a bus. So, naturally, John and I run to it and investigate. We saw you, laying the bottom of the crater, shrapnel sticking out of your body. I rush down, and I pick you up, and John and I take you to our flat before the police can get there. And here we are,". He stares at me, like he wants me to ask questions.

"Okay," I say, "Well, thank you,"

Sherlock just raises an eyebrow, and John looks back and forth between us. "Oh, and John?" I say, turning to him, "Thank you, for helping as well. You basically saved my life,"

He just smiles, and I can see that he's slightly blushing. "It was nothing," he says.

Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"So," John says, "Can we ask you some questions?"

"Yes," I say, "but don't expect straight answers. I'll tell you everything when I officially trust you,"

I hear Sherlock scoff. I look at him. 

He's sitting in an armchair, sitting cross legged on the chair. As he's looking at me, he has the tips of his fingers pressed together and his forefingers are resting on his lips. "That's a good plan. Get to trust someone, then spill all of your darkest secrets," he says.

"You can take turns asking questions, but each of you only get three questions," I say, staring Sherlock in the eyes.

Neither of us blink for a bit, like we're analyzing each other. 

One of his eyebrows raise. "Alright. John, you can go first," he says.

"Okay," John says, slowly, "Well, why are your wings black, not wight?"

I look at him. "My mother was a human," I say, "So, I'm basically half-angel, and with that comes the fact that I'm a 'black-sheep' among angels,"

"Why were you banished?" Sherlock asks quickly.

"A simple accident," I say, looking at him and giving him a silent warning not to tread any farther.

"Okay," John says, "Why didn't you have a name?"

"We don't need names in heaven," I say frankly.

"Are you the soul of a dead person, or a natural born angel?" Sherlock asks.

"Natural born," I say.

"Umm…" John thinks for a bit, but then asks, "What's heaven like?"

"Well, It's rather boring," I say, "Clouds everywhere, and nothing really to do,"

John then looks disappointed.

"Last question," Sherlock says, and he leans towards me. "Are you good at solving mysteries?"

I think for a bit. "I guess I can learn, can't I?" I say.

He smiles at me, and again, I almost fall into a trance because of those eyes. "That is what I like to hear," he says, and he leans away from me, breaking the moment. "So," he says as he stands up, "How about some breakfast?"


	3. Partners in Crime

(Raven's POV)

I've been solving mysteries with Sherlock and John for a month or two now. But I wasn't expecting this. I've seen atrocities, countless murders, and everything horrible that a human is capable of, but nothing could prepare me for this.

We walk up to the old building surrounded by ambulances and police cars, the front door roped off by caution tape.

"What is this place?" I ask Sherlock.

"An orphanage," he says, "and a very old one at that."

I nod.

As we walk past police officers, I focus on keeping my wings as close to me as possible. I have them tucked under a large trench coat. No one has noticed as of yet, but I still don't want to take any chances.

We walk through the front hall, and see some officers inspecting a chair behind a desk. It's covered in blood, and there's a hole through the middle of the back of the chair.

"This way, Raven," John says to me, pulling me toward where Sherlock was going.

Sherlock starts to head up a flight of stairs, toward what I suppose are the children's rooms. He turns to one of the first rooms, taking a pair of blue latex gloves from someone standing at the door.

John and I walk to the same room, and the person hands us gloves as well.

"Are all the rooms the same?" Sherlock says.

"As far as we can tell," Lestrade says, "But you may be able to see something we couldn't,"

Sherlock nods.

I couldn't even make it past the front door. I stop in my tracks as soon as the horror of the situation hits me.

In the room there are two rows of beds, one against the wall with windows, the other on the same wall as the door. Each bed is under a window, except the ones on the wall with the door. But what bothers me is that it looks like someone came in and splashed each bed with red and brown paint.

"We saved a stiff for you," Lestrade says to Sherlock, "They're over in the back corner,"

Sherlock nods. He walks towards one of the beds, and starts to inspect it.

"John, Raven," he says, "go and inspect the body,"

My heart leaps into my throat.

"All of the bodies were the same," Lestrade says to John, "so we thought one would suffice,"

John nods. He's been quiet since we entered the room.

There's a bed in the back corner with a small, body-like figure under a tarp.

When we get to the bed, John pulls it away from the wall a bit. He kneels on the floor on the side closest to the wall. 

I kneel on the other side. I look at John, and he looks like he's about to faint. 

He raises both of his hands and pulls back the tarp.

A child's face stares up at us, their eyes wide open, their mouth slightly in surprise. But the worst thing is that all of their skin is missing. We can see their muscles and bones.

I stand up, raising my hand to my mouth, my stomach churning unpleasantly. The stench of the whole room is enough to set off my gag reflex, but it's the body that brings me to tears. I start to back up from the bed, when I back into someone. I turn around to see Sherlock, looking slightly worried.

"Are you alright?" he asks, quietly.

I shake my head, and walk out of the room. I walk down the stairs, out the front doors, and past all of the ambulances and police cars. I sit down on a rock, and take off my gloves. I wipe my eyes on my coat sleeves, and try to purge the memory of the body from my mind. As hard as I try, everytime I close my eyes, I see the child's face, frozen in fear. I break down into sobs, when my stomach lurches, and I fall onto all fours, heaving. After a few minutes, I sit back on my haunches, and wipe my mouth on a handkerchief.

"Raven?!" I hear Sherlock yell.

"I'm hear," I say weakly.

"RAVEN?!" he calls again.

"I'm here," I say louder.

I hear him come up behind me, and stop. He sighs. He grabs my shoulders, and stands me up. "Should we go home?" he whispers.

I shake my head, tears still dripping down my face. "You're in the middle of an inspection," I say, "I wouldn't want to stop you from getting all of the details,"

"It's fine," he says, "how about you and John go home, since he's close to puking as well, and I'll stay here and go home when I'm finished,"

I nod. I walk back toward the building, but I still keep my distance.

John comes out the front doors, looking as pale as a sheet of paper.

"John," Sherlock says, "you and Raven are going home. I'm staying here until I'm finished,"

John nods as well.

A taxi pulls up behind us, and the Cabbie leans out the window. "John and Raven?" he asks.

John gets in one side of the cab while I get in the other.

"Where to?" the Cabbie asks.

"221b Baker Street," John says.

I lean against my door and stare out of my window. I'm watching the streetlights speed by when I hear John sniff. I look over at him.

His face is drenched in tears.

"Who could do such a thing?" he mutters, "The child…he was shot and stabbed before he was skinned. And Lestrade said all of the children died like that. Who would do that?"

I shake my head, and close my eyes, only to be greeted by the face of the child.

"I'm going to have nightmares about that," John says.

"You have fun with that," I say, "I'm going to force insomnia. I refuse to sleep if all I'll see is that child,"

John chuckles and nods. I can tell it was more of a "I agree with you," kind of chuckle.

I just refuse to sleep. At least until I can talk to Sherlock about it.


End file.
